One thing about writing a novel, you tend live in the novel world quite a bit. Without the radio, I’m thinking about plot and character on the way to work, writing little scenes in my head. At 2079 words (yay!), I’m not really to the good part yet. I can’t wait. I think I’m going to make it. It’s certainly motivating to be doing this with a whole bunch of other people.

I much prefer living in the imaginary world right now. In the real world, there are Supreme Court nominees that scare me, indictments, a war, and government mismanagement. Then there’s work, with its meaningless meetings and well, work. It’s good right now, but busy, and I’m, of course, distracted a bit by my little novel project.

You know, I would really like to go to a cabin in the woods and write my novel there. As long as I’m living in an imaginary world, I may as well take it all the way and imagine I’m single and an established writer who owns a cabin in Maine. Oh, and I jet around the world doing book signings and readings. That works, right?